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Chiran's Past
The following are a series of posts made in the yahoo group at the end of 2009 that are a conversation between Chiran and an abnormal psychologist by the name of Melissa (who also happens to be able to phase). Start of the thread: Post 11608 "Look (groan) I really don't know why I am doing this. By which I mean this. Talking to you. I tried talking to that sorcerer guy that everyone else talked to for a while after all the deaths but frankly...I really don't give a fuck about other people dying. Hell I even other people when they die. I have even made a couple dozen people die. I used to be a really fucking badass. I mean sure I still am a badass. But...I mean what is the point of life. I mean I have been reading a lot of books. Not needing to stop to eat or sleep leaves me with a lot of time on my hands and frankly what passes for television insults my intelligence. Regardless, Freud and Darwin say the whole point of living is to pass on your genes to the next generation. Which is all way and good. I mean I may be fucked in the head but I am fairly certain that at some point I could have grown up to be good father. But that's the fucking joke of it isn't it. I don't grow up. Some fuckwad in a lab coat decided to try to cure my asthma, which mind you really isn't that fucking bad of a thing to have, with fucking chemicals and radiation and boom. Now I got a severed hand in a box that is still alive and a guy who wants it back to complete his set and the body of a twelve year old. You know what I misss. Taking a piss. You might not know understand it or maybe well for all I know you are a trannie but there is just something about holding your member in your hand and having your own little stream of liquid. Almost like a very brief period of hydromancry. It goes directly where you want it to go. But no. No more pissing for me. No more eatting. No more sleeping. Which is a whole other thing. Man do I miss dreaming. I think half the reason I am as messed in the head as I am...isn't not cause I want to die. Wanting to die is a perfectly logical reaction to finding one's self immortal. No half the reason I am the way am is that i can't dream. The way I see it if I could have had a dream about strangling a nun I wouldn't have had to go and actually strangle a real nun. (looks at Mellissa for a react to confessing to strangling a nun...he gives up on that)." "Is wanting to die really all the bad of a desire. I mean sure being the way i am has allowed me to do things that other people could never do. I have swum in lava and gnawed on uranium rods. I could probably tie a weight to myself and shatter the record for deepest free dive. Big deal. Am I suppose to write a boook or something? Is that what my life is suppose to amount to. Going out and doing things that are impossible for other people to do and then writing some crappy memior about how my long and unending life has been full of countless adventures that I would just love to tell other people about. Fuck that. You all get to have sex. Me! I can't even get a fucking erection. Hell I can't even shove a stick up my dick and fake one. Not that any woman would ever want to have sex with me. I mean hell I am sure there have to be some freak-chicks out there who would jump at the chance to legally fuck the body of a twelve year old boy, but come on!" "Don't get me wrong, though. I may have been frozen at the onset of puberty but I am not completely obessed with sex. I have seen plenty of men who are capable of letting one off into a dirty rag that are a lot more perverted than me. It's just that. I grew up. I learned to ride a bike. I had my first kiss. I get up a kid. I got beat up. I shop-lifted for the first time. I shot a deer with my dad on a hunting trip. I went through all those milestones and then...I jus stopped. I stopped hitting milestones. The next step of my life should be an exploration of romance and love and lust and so many dirty wonderful things that other people are allowed to experience and squander. But me...no I have to sit on the sidelines and pretend to smile as I watch. Fuck that. Actually fuck this. This is a waste of my time. I am out of here." Chiran gets up to leave. Responses all mixed together First - Second' - Third' Melissa had not really been prepared for this. No psychology book really covered anything like this. Then again, she had the finest education that UCLA could offer. During Chiran's entire rant, Melissa's face remained impassive and she allowed him to rant. Clearly, he was trying to get an emotional reaction from her. He wanted to push her away and yet, at the same time he wanted to be a part of the human race. 'Well, it is not going to be that easy for you Chiran. You got dealt a bad hand but we're going to teach you to make something of it.' Casually, Melissa said, "You can leave. Nobody is going to force you to stay with me..." CHIRAN: "You better fucking believe it!" MELISSA: "...but before you go, consider something: Where are you going to go? What are you going to do? What better options do you really have?" She paused to let the questions sink in. Chiran is unsure what to make of her question. In the short term he was going to go to the library and do some reading maybe find a first edition book to set on fire or something just for kicks. He was going to share this but Melissa kept talking about he wasn't angry enough to interrupt her again. "I mean, after all, you have killed. You have raped. You have done everything that is unthinkable and what has it brought you? Tell me. I'm listening." Melissa sat on her chair, crossing her short but well sculpted legs and leaned forward, showing her interest in Chiran's answers. Chiran finds the nearest object he can get a hold of which happens to be a book and throws it at Melissa who of course just let's it pass right through her without much else in the way of a response, "Oh yeah. You can do that. I forgot. Well I guess that's good or else I would have seriously had to bash your head in. Haven't you heard a single word I said, I am functionally ill-equiped to have sex so how the fuck am I going to rape someone? (To illustrate this fact Chiran pulls down his pants and exposes his genitalia which are exactly what you would expect a preteen boy's genitals to look like: small and not all that impressive) I mean look at it. I swear to god if I could I would rip it off my body and go around smacking people in the face with my severed dick. It's about all it's good for." Melissa casually watched Chiran as he pulled down his pants and exposed his genitalia, making no comments and keeping her face impassive. "As for being a murderer...yeah I have killed a lot of people. Most of them deserved it. But I suppose SOME of them were just in my way at the time. But it's not like my immediate reaction to my condition was to become a preteen Rambo. Hell no! I was twelve and suddenly found myself immune for the effects of injury, tiredness, thirst, and hunger. What the fuck did you think I did? I settled some scores in the school yard that's what I did. I kicked Billy Thompson's ass from one end of the schoolyard to the other. The jerk had been bullying me and the other kids for years. I think he ended up becoming an accountant. I like to think I set him back on the straight and narrow. Though I suppose in a way I took his place down the path of evil. But like I said I didn't go all kill frenzy immediately. I fucking enjoyed the hell out of my life. My parents, my parents did not understand. They tried to get me to eat and sleep and drink. I think they were in denial. Seeing how I immediately threw up anything I tried to eat or drink they convinced themselves that their 'little angel' was very sick and the 'good doctor's treatment may have had some side effects. They had no idea. (stares off into nothingness and then seems sort of genuinely sad for a second) I don't want to talk about my parents anymore. They think I am dead and I am fairly certain they are dead and I just want to leave it that way." '' ''"Needless to say it is not easy to make your way in the world in the body of a twelve year old. I ran into my first pedophile within a year of living independent. The cock-sucker under-estimated me and tried to violate me. I stabbed him in the neck with a broken bear bottle. He was the first person I killed. I can't say that killing him felt all that good. I am sure I would have vomitted if I could but of course I couldn't. I just sat there watching the blood slowly drain out of him and stain the carpet. I decide to find other people like this guy and relieve them of THEIR blood. Back in that day there was no internet or anything, pedophiles had to find their prey the old fashion way and a pedophile-killer had to find his victims an even harder way. I would go and hang around in parks and pools and playground acting all innocent and of course talking to EVERY stranger I could. A lot of them were decent people, I was asked thousands of times where my parents were. A couple times I was taken in by the police or sent to a foster home, I would escape and move onto another city. Needless to say in the next three years I made quite a path of carnage and dead perverts across the country. I got pretty good at killing grown men too. I took a great deal of pride in tricking them into drinking cyanide laced cola. I would drink it too but then again I would just expel it a couple minutes later once it had rolled around aimlessly in my stomach for a while. By then the perverts would be dead on the floor. I think it was in Chicago that I first started mutilating the bodies. I had read a story once about brave knights taking the tongues of dragons as proof of their valor. I didn't think taking their tongues was a good gesture so of course I relieved them of their dicks. It's not like they were going to need them. I think in Boston is where I first removed the guy's dick before he was completely dead. Yeah. Just incase you are wondering I didn't keep the dicks. I am not a freak. I usually found a stray dog or something and gave it to them." '' ''"When vietnam came around it was beginning to don on me that not only would I never kill every last pedophile on the planet but I was really really bored. I tried a couple times to sneak onto an airplane into Vietname but of course twelve is far too young to be able to convince someone you are eighteen. I did eventually get to Vietnam but that was after the war was long over and for entirely different reasons. (mostly to himself) a lot of severed dicks. Yeah a lot." '' ''"One night in Hollywood in 1983, I killed my first cop. Mind you to me he wasn't a cop. Even when the police had been taking me into custody during my hay-day as a pedophile killer I had never so much as slugged one. I was still very niave and thought that the police were on my side. But that night in 1983, I learned a very important lesson: There are no sides. No two people have the same desires in life. You see that cop I killed, I killed him when I spiked the punch at a sex party. I am talking about the kind of sex party where the invitation of children is ENCOURAGED. and make no mistake this cop wasn't undercover, he was a willing and active participant in the activities. But did the authorities see it that way: no. They just saw one dead cop in the middle of a lot of cocaine and dead people." '' ''"I think killing that cop is what put me on their radar. I don't really know or care. I am sure the first couple times someone reported a boy meeting my description as having been seen leaving a crime scene and listed me as a suspect they got laughed at. But needless to say eventually the police started actively looking for me. By that time I think I actually welcomed the...shall we say attention. I was still a little naive about the whole thing, I mean I didn't walk into police stations and re-enact the bank scene from 'They Live'. But I stopped sneaking around and being stealthy in my actions. I got in a couple fire fights. It wasn't till a couple months after the police started shooting at me and it was clear that I was not about to die from high velocity lead poisoning, that I finally picked up a gun and started firing back. I had shot my dad's rifle before. I had hunted but this was different. At first I wasn't even really taking time to aim or anything. It wasn't really like I was trying to even kill them. I just wanted them to keep shooting back at me and maybe bring in a sniper or something. I had theories at the time about my abilities being based on force fields like that canadian guy's and so I thought a bullet going fast enough might be able to save me from my miserable exsistence. No such luck." '' ''"By the late eighties and early nineties, I had given up on trying to involve other people in my demise. That's when I did my lava swimming and uranium munching. Just so that you understand. I may not be able to get hurt but I still feel pain. I can recall getting hurt before the accident but what I feel now is something different. It is hard to describe how it feels to be surrounded by motlen rock and feel the intense heat but not the agony of your flesh burning. I would not recommend swimming in lava even if you can't burn but still...it was mildly enjoyable if for no other reason than to see the tour guide freak the fuck out when I 'accidentally' fell in." '' ''"Wait why the fuck am I still here. I mean why am I still talking to you? You got some sort of phermemon influence shit going on or something that makes people want to tell you shit?" Melissa wanted to laugh at the last question but she knew to do so would cause her to lose all credibility at this fragile stage. She kept her face carefully neutral and tilted it slightly to the right indicate her continued interest in listening. 'At least he started off with decent, though misguided motives. Now, if we could just rechannel those energies to be completely positive.' '' ''Slowly she asked, "Perhaps you just have not had the right person who was truly willing to listen to you? Or maybe, you never had someone that was willing to wait for your anger to subside? Whatever it is, I assure you that I have no super pheromones. I want to listen and perhaps help you...that is, if you will let me." My Response Chiran pulled his pants back up as clearly seeing his flaccid junk wasn't the least bit startling to her. Chiran contemplated that maybe it was because she had seen a lot of little boy's dicks in her life. The thought that she might be a pedophile passed through his mind and with it the thought that she deserved to die. But Chiran quickly let it pass for reasons varying to a lack of desire to play god, lack of evidence, and Melissa's tendency to just let things pass right through her both physically and mentally. Once more he found himself drawn back into a conversation with her despite being determined to storm off only moments before, "Don't delude yourself. We both know you are a lot smarter than that. You...this conversation...they are nothing special. I spent a good deal of the nineties being different people's 'special project'." "Eventually my past caught up with me. The government got a hold of me and I spent an unknown amount of time basically locked in a reinforced empty broom closet. I guess they had figured out that I didn't need a bed or to be fed. Eventually I guess someone took an interest in me cause they let me out and put me in a maximum security holding facility. First everyone seemed to want to see first-hand what I could do. I was shot at, doused with acid, dropped, electrocuted, you name it. I have to say I basically took that all in stride. I think that was good because being repeatedly abused could not hold a candle to what came next." "I pretty much became everyone's little test ubject. I had people fruitlessly trying to scrape cells off of me in order to analyze them. My mouth was repeatedly swabbed to get cheek cells. When it finally donned on them that I did not need to drink and yet the inside of my mouth was moist, a team was set up to analyze that. Basically they did everything they could to pick me apart since they could not literally pick me apart. It really wasn't all that bad. Sometimes I got to read a book or watch television while someone tried in vain to get a tissue sample from me. But what I really hated was when people came to talk to me." "First a whole bunch of different police officers came and I had to repeatedly relay in detail my exploits killing pedophiles. At first it was fun...sort of but then it got really boring. I mean I am not an idiot, I get that they were trying to close some cold murder cases but...I swear I had to tell the same story to the same person like five times over the course of six monthes. Maybe they were trying to see if I would change my story but of course I had actually committed all those murders and so I knew every detail of the crimes." "They had me talk to head shrinker after head shrinker. First they all seemed to want to know why I had killed all those people. To me it was obvious: They needed to die and I had both the ability and the time to get the job done. I think they were looking for me to breakdown and confess that my father had molested me or been physically abusive or an alcoholic and that when I was killed a pedophile, in my mind I was getting revenge upon my father for what he had done for me. Once it became clear that my motives were fairly simple, they stopped asking to talk to me." "A new batch of head shrinkers started talking to me. These ones kept asking me how it felt to be the way I was. I tried a couple times to explain it but eventually I just stopped doing anything in those sessions other than engaging in staring contests. I don't need to blink apparently that fact can be quite upsetting to people over the course of a forty-five minute session of silence." "Now I want to stop and just explain something. I was not an idiot. I was not doing all this for free. I would co-operate and then when I wanted something I would stop and then me and the big wigs would sit down and they would try to get me to be helpful again by giving me some more books to read or letting me go outside or adding another level to my cable tv subscription. I never deluded myself that I had them by the short and curlies but I knew how to throw my weight around so to speak." "I think it was sometime in 1995 that they relocated me and what little I could call my possessions to a military base in the desert. I think someone in the military decided to test the possibility of using me as a weapon. I think they had accepted that their options when it came to immortal soldiers was very limited." "Of course giving me a gun initially met with the results one would expect. I shot the quartermaster two seconds after he handed me the gun. I shot the guy in the leg. I wasn't trying to kill him, I just wanted to demostrate that I was not going to go allong with their plan and play GI.JOE for them. They tried to same general idea with knives, batons, and tasers all with similar results before they got the message that I had no desire to be all that I could be." "I did however agree once to play soldier for them. I let them smuggle me into Vietnam and then went to town on the child sex trade there. Of course they intended me to go in and kill a bunch of brothel operators. I had other ideas. I not only did that I took out the corrupt politicians and law enforcement officers who were letting it happen. The military did not like the fact that I showed initiative and said they were never going to send me on another mission. Which was just fine by me." "A third set of therapists started coming to talk to me. They told me that they wanted to help me get back in touch with my humanity. They gave me a puppy to take care of. (angry) Now before you even BEGIN to think ill of me. I loved my puppy! I took the best damn care of my puppy that I could. I walked her and I bathed her and I kept her well fed and (sad silence) truth be told I started to enjoy life again. (angry) But it turned out to be the military's idea of a sick joke. They started threatening to take my puppy away or worse hurt her if I did not do what they said. Now I ask you what choice did I have? (Angry) I decide that it was time to leave and that if I had to kill every one of the soldiers on the base to accomplish that then I was okay with it. But first (Eyes get a distant look to them and it is clear that Chiran is reliving what he is saying) I took a pillow and I smothered my puppy while she slept and then I took her femur and I used it to poke out the eyes of the base's commanding officer before...well...I miss my puppy and that is all I want to say about that." "All that matters is they took my puppy from me and I took their lives in return." Melissa's Response Melissa, for the first time showed a little emotion with her hand reflexively approaching her mouth as Chiran talked about killing his own puppy to avoid being controlled. 'OK, Melissa, what do we have here? We have someone with his own sense of nobility and righteousness. He views himself as self important and refuses to accept complete responsibility for his actions. Perhaps we should try getting him another pet. He just needs some assurance to completely open up, I think.' Melissa told Chiran genuinely, "That's horrible! I am sorry to hear that you had to go through that with the military. I will tell you something, Chiran. I will never make you a promise that I cannot keep and I will make you this promise. If you want, I will get you another puppy. However, unlike the military or anyone else, I promise you that I will never ever use it to control you or allow anyone else to control you. Nobody deserves that. What do you say to that?" My response If Chiran was angry at remembering how his puppy had been used against him he was furious now, "Let's get a couple things straight right now. First off there are only a couple reasons I can think of off the top of my head right now as to why you are not either dead or dying after what you just said. Of those reasons the two most important are the fact that you can phase and that the other residents would probably not like me killing you. That same list also includes the fact that you are the first person who has treated me like an actual person in a long time not to mention you pose no more threat to me than any other woman your age. Secondly, I am fifteen years your senior if not more and I insist that you not forget that. If I had wanted another puppy I would have gotten myself one. I am more than capable of either stealing one from a breeder or buying one legitimately with money i have acquired through various means. Third, don't try to feed me a line of shit about you never breaking promises and then promising never to hurt me. I have no doubt in my mind and there should be no delusions in yours that if push came to shove and it was you or me, you would pick yourself and I would pick myself. If that's not the case then you should just go overdose on sleeping pills right now and save us all a lot of..." --- --- --- At this point in the plot, a drone of The Core complies with a request from an external source (that has all the command over-ride codes) to shut off all the power to the building which not only effectively 'kills' The Core but also plunges Chiran and Melissa into darkness and brings their little session to a rapid close. The member who controlled Melissa left the group shortly after this exchange of messages took place for personal reasons and so this concludes the inter-actions between Melissa and Chiran that I feel are worth noting.